Close Your Eyes
by ClubbingBabySeals
Summary: A piece of fanfiction centered around the life of Entreri when he was still working his way up through the ranks of the Basadoni Guild...FINALLY COMPLETED!. Epilogue is up.
1. Default Chapter

This is more or less my first attempt at fan-fiction, or creative writing, period. When searching for inspiration to write this, I recalled a passage in R.A. Salvatore's "The Servant of the Shard" wherein the priest Cadderly speculates as to why Entreri is so bitter--especially toward priests. Cadderly wondered if perhaps Entreri had been terribly wronged by a priest in some way-----and I decided to elaborate on that little tid-bit. This story takes place in two times, really--it's set when Entreri was a young man still working his way up through the ranks of the Basadoni guild; but within there are some rather long-winded flashbacks that will (of course!) be identified as such. I hope you enjoy the story--but even if you don't, constructive criticism is ALWAYS appreciated! Just don't brow-beat me for silly grammatical errors--I'm only human.  
  
Listen as the wind blows  
from across the great divide,  
Voices trapped in yearning,  
memories trapped in time,  
The night is my companion  
and solitude my guide,  
Would I spend forever here  
and not be satisfied,  
  
And I would be the one  
to hold you down,  
kiss you so hard,  
I'll take your breath away  
and after I'd wipe away the tears,  
Just close your eyes dear  
  
Through this world I've stumbled  
so many times betrayed,  
Trying to find an honest word,  
to find the truth enslaved,  
Oh you speak to me in riddles and  
you speak to me in rhymes  
My body aches to breathe your breath,  
you words keep me alive,   
  
And I would be the one  
to hold you down,  
kiss you so hard,  
I'll take your breath away  
and after I'd wipe away the tears,  
Just close your eyes dear  
  
Into this night I wander,  
it's morning that I dread,  
Another day of knowing of  
the path I fear to tread,  
Oh into the sea of waking dreams  
I follow without pride,  
Nothing stands between us here  
and I won't be denied,  
  
And I would be the one  
to hold you down,  
kiss you so hard,  
I'll take your breath away  
and after I'd wipe away the tears,  
Just close your eyes dear...  
  
  
~Posession  
  
  
  
{Many of the characters, locations, ideas, et.cetera represented in this work of fan-fiction are property of R.A. Salvatore and Wizards of the Coast and I do not presume to claim them as my own. A few characters, idea, and locales are indeed of my own creation, but to avoid liability--I hereby denounce them. Don't sue me...I'm a poor college student....}  
  
  
Close Your Eyes  
  
  
Chapter I: A Leave of Absence  
  
  
The warm summer nights of the Southern Sword Coast brought with them the tepid rains that gave life to the otherwise desolate landscape. This night was no different. Droplets pattered softly upon the sandy streets of the bustling city of Calimport. The seasonal rains were few but enough to fill the reservoirs for at least a few months, and at the very least they provided a much desired treat for those afflicted by the desert heat. Filthy street urchins giggled and squealed in pleasure as they played a game of stickball in a dilapidated alley, the rain leaving muddy trails down their faces.   
  
  
High on the rooftops of one of the mudbrick stuctures that made up so much of the city's taupe skyline sat a lone figure, legs swinging freely over the side of the building. His dark eyes darted back and forth between the playful children in the alley below and the dead body of a haggard old beggar only a few yards away from them. How well it summarized life as he knew it. The young man raised a hand and wiped the rain from his brow, pushing a few strands of wet hair back behind his ears. There was work to be done, true, but it could wait. The target wasn't going anywhere, and it wasn't often that peace came so readily to Artemis Entreri. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, the warm rain hitting his face as gently as a lover's sweet kisses. The pure water poured down his upturned visage like saltless tears; tears that he had vowed would never again come to him. There would be no more tears--tears were signs of lowly emotion that only led to weakness. I am strong, he had told himself. I will be the strongest...untouchable in everything that I do from this day forward, he had sworn. To keep such vows was a task harder than he had ever believed possible...but he would do it. There was no choice about it anymore.  
  
  
"Artemis..." whispered a lilting adolescent voice from behind him.  
  
  
"Go away." Entreri replied simply--not moving in the slightest.  
  
  
"Artemis...Old Man Basadoni wants you to come back to the guildhouse immediately...Derrick said the target was already cancelled...Rassiter's guild, he said...So you--.....Artemis?...Are you listening to me?"  
  
  
"I said go away. I suggest you do so." He replied evenly, this time turning to look at the rainsoaked half-elf behind him.   
  
  
The half-elf let out an exasperated sigh, throwing his hands up into the air--little droplets of water were flung in every direction. "Sulking in the rain is for morons, drunkards, and brokenhearted fools, Artemis! Derrick told me to bring you back to the guildhouse within the hour--Basadoni needs to speak with you-----I...I...Artemis..." The half-elf shut his mouth, taking a few steps back as Entreri rose from his perch at the edge of the rooftop; his heartbeat racing as the assassin stared veritable daggers at him.  
  
  
Artemis Entreri said nothing...his boots making not a sound as he padded toward the visibly shaking half-elf.  
  
  
"I...um...Listen, Artemis...if..if you like..I..I'll say I couldn't find you..."  
  
  
"Let's go." Entreri mumbled...walking silently past the confused half-elf and toward the staircase that led to the ground level of the building.   
  
  
Theo let out a deep breath; relieved that his fast tongue had not gotten him killed this night, and followed the rapidly moving figure of the assassin.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Derrick paced the length of the receiving room; his heavy boots clicking loudly against the hard ceramic tiles. He was an imposing man--as most in positions of power in a guild tended to be, but his face showed signs of the hardships associated with 40 years of worry. Most of those 40 years has been spent elevating the station of the Basadoni guild within Calimport's notorious underground. Everything he knew he had learned from old Basadoni himself; but for over a decade now the old guildmaster had been too preoccupied with failing health to see to his duties; and thus the majority of them had fallen to Derrick--his right hand man. Hard times were approaching---everyone knew it---and the guilds would be the hardest hit. New legislation in the City of Calimport was not uncommon...it was, after all, one of the largest cities in the Southern hemisphere...but new legislation in addition to one-thousand praetorian guards on loan from Waterdeep with a few meddlesome new sects of religious fanatics who were rapidly gaining power within the region thrown into the mix was going to make life as everyone knew it here very, very different. Individually each factor was bribable...but the guild's coffers would definitly be scraped dry by the time everyone was paid off. That would never do....  
  
  
Derrick was broken from his thoughts by a faint knock at the large oaken door. "Enter," he spoke loudly.  
  
  
The door cracked slightly and Theo's sopping wet head poked through..."Entreri's here..."  
  
"Then why don't you MOVE and let him IN!?" snapped Derrick; his agitation over the impending troubles very clearly conveyed in his voice.  
  
  
Theo stumbled through the opening and quickly swung around to pull the door open for the assassin to pass. Entreri did so, seeming to drag his feet as he shuffled with a fair amount of disinterest toward Derrick.  
  
  
"I'm glad you're here..." Derrick began, his tone taking on that of a businessman...  
  
  
"I'm not." Entreri interjected, drawing a confused look from his superior.  
  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
  
"Glad. I'm not glad. In fact, I'm downright belligerent. Am I kept on such a tight leash here that I may not sit for a quarter hour where I choose without your tactless messengers prodding me home?" Entreri's deadpan expression darkened, small tendrils of his dark hair curling about his face as they dried. His eyes; long without the luster found in those of most young men his age, stared into Derrick's.   
  
  
The Guildman was angry for having received a scolding from an inferior...but for this one, he would look the other way. Entreri was far too valuable a tool for the Basadoni Guild---and besides...who would they hire to kill him? Behind Entreri the half-elf Theo fidgeted nervously; wondering if perhaps this would be the ideal time to excuse himself...."Theo, go. Find Dondon." The half-elf didn't need anymore prodding than that and within 15 seconds he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. Derrick turned his attention once more to Entreri. Old Man Basadoni had high hopes for Artemis Entreri--a fact which worried Derrick on more than one occasion. Would this young upstart one day usurp his own position? "I have need of your services--and no, it could not wait. I need.."  
  
  
"And here's what I need..." Artemis began; once again interrupting the now fuming Guildman. "I need time off. I need for you to leave me be for a while. You have other assassins. No target you have yet assigned has been so difficult that Lucas could not have handled him...If there's someone you need eliminated so desperately why don't you leave your silk cushion and kill him yourself?..."  
  
  
It was all Derrick could do to keep himself from lashing out at the impetuous young assassin. Entreri was cocky--very true--but it was not without merit. Derrick half wondered who would be the victor should the young Entreri ever challenge him..."I hear Rassiter's pack is offering quite a bounty on your head. Perhaps you would do wise not to tempt me to collect on it." To that he recieved an amused scoff from Entreri; who believed Derrick's idle threat about as much as he believed Old Man Basadoni was really a strapping teenager....  
  
  
"It wasn't a request...You are being informed. I'm taking some time off. Basadoni won't have a problem with it; and if he does, he'll know where to find me." Artemis shot Derrick a smug grin; well aware of the superior Guildsman's worries about the young assassin's quick ascent up the hierarchy within the powerful guild. Old Man Basadoni had taken in the young Entreri from the streets more than six years ago; and since then had spent great amounts of time, effort, and most importantly, money, in Artemis's training. The assassin had developed his skills with such fervor that Old Man Basadoni was not only spared disappointment for his investment; but rather had come to prize Artemis Entreri as one of his guild's most valuable assets. Perhaps moreso than that, Basadoni had taken a liking to the young man. Old man Basadoni had acquired his power and status in Calimport by being one of the shrewdest, most calculating men in the city; but he had also learned to surround himself with men that had the power to advance his station and that of his guild. Entreri was such a man--or, as Basadoni jokingly insisted--he would be when he grew up.  
  
  
"This is preposterous!" Derrick snarled at Entreri as the assassin turned and started toward the door. "You walk out of this guildhouse and I'll have every cutthroat, bounty-hunter and criminal south of Luskan after your head!"  
  
  
Entreri rolled his eyes, not even bothering to turn around and acknowledge the irate Guildsman. Without another thought Entreri pulled the door open and slipped out into the hallway, letting the door slam behind him...  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
"What do you mean?" Dondon asked as he and Theo rounded a corner, emerging from a back alley onto the main thoroughfare of the market avenue. Merchants were jammed like sardines into their tiny shops, the lucky ones with cloth overhangs to keep the sun, and on this night, the rain off of them. Dondon casually swiped a handful of dates from a basket atop a merchant's counter as he passed. Nonchalantly he tossed one to Theo, taking a moment to nibble on one himself.  
  
  
"I mean he said he was leaving....I heard him with my own ears...I was right there...well...before Derrick told me to leave...."  
  
  
"Yes, I heard you the first time...but where does he plan to go? Is he coming back? Will Derrick LET him come back?"  
  
  
"I don't know...I had to leave..." Theo paused to take a bite of his date... "but he seemed rather preoccupied with the idea. In fact, now that I think about it, he's been in a fairly melancholic mood for quite a while now. Maybe he's fed up with the whole lifestyle..."  
  
  
Dondon chuckled, shoving two more dates into his mouth. "I don't believe it for a minute..."  
  
  
"I told you...I'm not lying...I heard it..."  
  
  
"I'm not talking about that, Theo...I mean Artemis. I can't think of anyone more suited to an assassin's life than he....but you're right. He's certainly lost his drive for action lately." The pudgy halfling swallowed the coarsely chewed dates and filled his mouth with two more.  
  
  
Theo quieted for a moment, staring thoughtfully at the toes of his boots as he padded down the dusty street. "Think it's got anything to do with that prostitute?" he whispered, as if fearful that someone might hear.  
  
  
Dondon stopped chewing... "I think it's got everything to do with her."  
  
  
* * * * * 


	2. Chapter II: The Red Harem

Chapter II: The Red Harem  
  
  
Artemis strolled languidly through the labyrinth-like sidestreets of the dock district. The rains had subsided slightly for the evening and the young man found that the humidity still lingering in the air was somehow refreshing. He took a deep breath and shook his head, his hand absently straying to the hilt of the saber at his side. It was not often that the skillful Artemis Entreri felt unsafe, but there was something about this area. Whenever he came here he felt uneasy. True, the dock district was naturally polluted by the myriad of sailors in port with a few days of shore leave...but there was a more specific reason. At the moment, Artemis stood right in front of it.  
  
  
The assassin pulled his dark grey cloak tightly around himself as he stood motionless in the street before the tall mudbrick building. The structure was three stories high, but had a relatively thin facade. Each of the three windows on each level was carefully curtained in heavy red fabric, though the candlelight from within illuminated through the coarse material making the portals seem to glow alluringly from the street below. A sign above the oaken door gave every indication as to the nature of the establishment: The Red Harem...  
  
  
A fat man dressed in brightly colored silks stumbled drunkenly out of the building and, smiling and chortling all the way, brushed past the still form of the assassin. Entreri turned his head slightly to watch as the highly inebriated man made his roundabout way down the street toward the docks. He looked again at the building....his dark eyes straying slowly to the far right window on the second level. No light shone within that room this night. Taking a deep breath, Entreri took a few strides and placed his hand upon the ruddy brass doorknob, pulling the heavy oaken door open. Immediately the assassin was assaulted by the warm din of the bustling room. Sailors sat with scantily clad ladies at the bar, the raucous sounds of their drinking and carrying on filling the hot room. Entreri furrowed his brows and pushed through the crowd toward the staircase at the back of the room.  
  
  
"You can't go up there..." giggled a young woman; barely more than a child. Her face was painted like a doll's and she was dressed as one, as well, although Artemis decided he had never seen a doll with so low cut a garment...  
  
  
"I'll only be a moment..." He said, his voice purposefully absent of recognizeable emotion, although privately he could feel his throat tightening.  
  
  
The doll grinned lasviciously... "Most men don't like to admit that...."  
  
  
Entreri shook his head and pushed past the girl. He darted up the stairs, nearly tripping over a corset as he did so, and stopped when he reached the top of the first flight. Taking a deep breath, he slipped down the hallway and toward the farthest room.  
  
  
"She ain't here."   
  
  
Artemis turned to look at the tall woman behind him. "I know."  
  
  
"Then why are ye skulkin' 'round here? If ye ain't a payin' customer no more, ye ain't got no reason fer bein' here..." The tall woman placed her hands on her hips, her unbound hair flopping around her bare shoulders like seaweed on windy beach.   
  
  
Artemis bit his tongue, his throat tightening once more...his eyes stinging. He hated this feeling, and he hated this woman for making him feel it. Without a word he reached into the money pouch at his side and tossed a handful of coppers at her feet.   
  
  
The tall woman smirked. "That'll buy ye an hour. I'll send someone up..."  
  
  
"No." The assasin spoke, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles whitened.  
  
  
"Ye're wishin' just t'use an empty room?" She sounded confused, but as her mind--so long stuck in a perpetual gutter--began to work, she grinned... "There's oil b'side the bed."  
  
  
Artemis opened his mouth to refute the woman's assumption, but shook his head as the blood in his face rushed to his cheeks...he decided to let her think as she would. If it would buy him some peace and quiet, then he supposed his dignity was worth the price. "Thank you.", he managed to croak as he turned his attention back toward the door. With a fluid motion...so practiced that he had no need to think about it....he pushed the door open like he had so many nights before and stepped into the dark room.   
  
  
Artemis let the door close behind him, locking it with a simple deadbolt as he started slowly toward the bed. The piece of furniture was simple and utilitarian--a hard straw mattress wrapped in a white cloth sheet. A stained wool blanket lay in a heap on the floor beside it. The young man absently unclasped his cloak, letting it fall to his feet as he stepped toward the bed. The scant moonlight barely poured through the window, but it provided enough light for the assassin. Artemis gritted his teeth as his throat tightened once more. Finally he gave in. His knees went weak and he dropped to the floor, gathering the blanket into his arms. Artemis Entreri buried his face into the old blanket, muffling his sobs as the smell of her assaulted his senses.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Seriously...I don't." Artemis said, amusement playing in his eyes.   
  
  
"Liar...You do. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here with me." She smiled, lying back; her arms folded beneath her head.  
  
  
Artemis lay beside her, a hand straying to twirl a lock of her golden hair between his fingers. "What makes you think I don't just come here for the atmosphere?"  
  
  
She laughed outright, her face brightening in the candlelight. "Artemis, no one comes here for the atmosphere. They come here for the women...and YOU come here for the therapy of it."  
  
  
He smiled, lying his head upon her naked breast. "Therapy? Jorie, If I couldn't cope with the demands of my trade, I wouldn't do what I do. I could kill anyone in the world---even my own mother, I daresay---and I would be able to walk away uncrippled by guilt. It's all in the training...."  
  
  
She feigned a yawn, stretching her body out beneath him... "Oh...right...right..." She was met with an exasperated sigh from the young man. "And, of course, you would have no problem killing me, right?"  
  
  
"Right..........OUCH! That hurt!" Entreri sat up, rubbing his sore shoulder---the fingernail marks still clearly visible. "Jorie, we discuss this everytime I come here, and everytime I tell you the same thing. I am an assassin...." He sounded out the word as if explaining it to a child... "I will be the best one day---I don't have time for guilt, or remorse---and I certainly don't have time to be picky about my targets. It's something one learns to deal with......if you think about it....we're really not so different in that respect."  
  
  
Jorie rolled to her side, pulling the old wool blanket up around her shoulders. "You are so cold sometimes, Artemis." Her voice had lost its sweetness, taking on a hurtful tone.  
  
  
"I'm sorry, Jorie..." He leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek before standing and pulling his shirt on. "I need to go now. I'll see you tomorrow night."  
  
  
"Artemis..."  
  
  
"Yes?"  
  
  
"Do you love me?"  
  
  
"No.... I'll see you tomorrow night. Goodbye, Jorie." With a nod he stepped toward the door and left with hardly a sound.  
  
  
"Liar."   
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Artemis was stirred from his reverie by a loud knocking at the door. He stood, placing the old blanket on the bed, and headed over to the source of the noise, which abruptly stopped as he slid the deadbolt back.  
  
  
"Hour's up." Yelled a woman's coarse voice.  
  
  
Artemis opened the door and stepped past the tall woman, quickly making his way down the stairs and out of the establishment altogether...He paused to take a deep breath as he stepped out into the cool night air...the chilly rain sprinkling upon his face, mixing with his tears. 


	3. Chapter III: Dwhavel

Chapter III: Dwhavel  
  
Dondon hightailed it through the bustling streets of the city center--the morning sun drying the dew from the canopies of the merchant's shops. The halfling wiped a few beads of sweat from his brow, huffing and puffing as he rounded the corner and jogged up toward the unassuming doorway. He knocked four times, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees as he waited.  
  
  
A small window slid open about halfway down the door and a pair of almond shaped eyes--dark and sultry--stared out at Dondon. "Took you long enough..."  
  
  
Dondon half smiled, half grimaced...still attempting fervently to catch his breath as he made a mental note to cut down on the sugared dates... "I'm here, aren't I?" He forced himself to stand upright as the small window slid shut and focused upon the sounds of locks being opened. A few seconds later the door cracked and Dondon pushed his way inside.  
  
  
Dwhavel closed the door behind Dondon, refastening each of the many locks. "So what's the news?" The female halfling sauntered past him and seated herself upon a stool that had it's legs sawn off so as to be of appropriate height for one of her stature. She gestured for Dondon to seat himself, as well. He did so, choosing a rather fluffy cushion next to a bowl of cashews.   
  
  
"Derrick's plans are all amess...." The halfling artfully tossed a cashew into the air and caught it in his mouth. "He'd planned to pay off the nobles who hired the praetorians. I think he still may opt for that...but he was riding on the assumption that he'd have Entreri to start some trouble within the ranks of the new Temple. That plan's thrown in the chamber pot now..."  
  
  
Dwhavel pursed her lips, quietly tapping her forefinger to her chin as she considered the information her cousin brought. "Derrick won't attempt to buy out the Temple?"  
  
  
"Not likely. Basadoni's got a fortune under it's belt; but it's all tied up in different sorts of ventures. I'd say he hasn't got enough in the coffers to manage it. Unless he were to overrun another guild---perhaps a couple of the smaller thieves guilds...which, might I add, I don't see happening---there's no way he's got the cash. If I were a betting type, I'd wager Derrick's going to have to wait it out until Entreri decides to return--or risk sending in Lucas or Cordoban." Dondon munched on another handful of cashews, lifting his brows as he focused his gaze upon his cousin's thoughtful features.  
  
  
"Lucas, perhaps....Cordoban could never manage it. If Derrick is wise he'll ride it out until Entreri returns. Now, it's your turn." Dwhavel folded her small hands delicately in her lap and awaited Dondon's questions.   
  
  
Dondon pushed the bowl of cashews away, intent upon his questions, as he knew he would have to phrase them cleverly indeed if he wanted to get any real information out of the tricky Dwhavel...a halfling who made her entire living off of the information trade. He looked around himself at the dilapidated yet cozy room. Dwhavel had plans for this place. A gaming house...an information pit-stop...a safe-house for her halfling kin. He could not help but admire his cousin and wish that he had himself the streetsmarts to survive in Calimport without the protection of a guild.   
  
  
"Well?" Dwhavel asked, a slight hint of impatience tinging her voice.  
  
  
"What will happen if the Temple is not put in its place? Does it really have the power to affect the guilds?" Dondon nibbled on his bottom lip as he awaited the answer.  
  
  
"The Temple...no. The populace under the control of the Temple...most certainly. There is nothing in this world that can wreak havok upon an establishment so effectively as religious fervor, Dondon...mark my word there." Dwhavel leaned back slightly, gauging her cousin's reaction.  
  
  
Dondon did little more than raise a curious brow... "I don't understand..."  
  
  
Dwhavel tsked and shook her head. "The guilds control this city. You know that. But WHY do they control this city?"  
  
  
"Because they have the money...."  
  
  
"Yes...and HOW do they acquire this money?" Dwhavel guided...  
  
  
"Trade monopoly and prostitution..." Dondon trailed off as realization struck him... "The Temple means to shut down the prostitution rings in the city?"  
  
  
Dwhavel grinned. "See...I knew intelligence ran in the family..."  
  
  
"How do you know this!?" Dondon prodded.  
  
  
Dwhavel batted her eyes and shrugged knowingly. "I have my ways." She pushed herself down from her stool and started toward the door, going through the familiar ritual of unlocking each of the padlocks upon it. "See what else you can find out about Derrick's intentions...I'd like to know what that one's up to..."  
  
  
"I will," Dondon said as he rolled himself off of the soft cushion, grabbing one last handful of the salted cashews, and headed for the door...as an afterthought he paused infront of his cousin... "Do you know anything about a brothel on Crescent Street...in the dock quarter?"  
  
  
Dwhavel tsked... "Dear Cousin...you know I do not give information for free..."  
  
  
Dondon grinned sweetly "But I'm family..."  
  
  
Dwhavel shook her head, biting back a chuckle. "Very well. The Red Harem. What is it you need to know?"  
  
  
"There's a whore there that Entreri visits very frequently---I don't know her name, but for some reason she left the brothel a few weeks ago. I think that's got something to do with Entreri's impromptu vacation....Theo seems to think that they've run off together to Silverymoon or some such to live as farmers...you know how Elves think...but I think there's something going on..." Dondon looked to his cousin to elaborate his assumption.  
  
  
"There is." Dwhavel answered simply.   
  
  
"Dwhavel, please..."  
  
  
Dwhavel let out an exasperated sigh. "Dear Cousin, this is not so difficult. Think about it. What would prevent a whore from doing her job?"  
  
  
"Oh." Dondon scratched his head as he considered the revelation. "I see..."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Later that afternoon Dwhavel sat pouring over her architectural plans. The Copper Ante---it would be quite a place when it was finished, the halfling fantasized. There would no longer be any need for her kind to become lowly servants and petty theives for the powerful guilds in the city...she would be the proprietress of an establishment where her halfling kin could make their livings while keeping their dignity...at least...that was the plan. She was startled suddenly as she heard the door click shut behind her. In a frenzy she whipped her head around...  
  
  
"I didn't mean to startle you." Artemis Entreri said softly as he stuffed his lockpick satchel back into pocket.   
  
  
"Of course you didn't," Dwavel started sardonically "If you'd meant to startle me, you would have knocked..."  
  
  
"I need to talk to you."  
  
  
"Obviously." She looked the young man over. If Artemis Entreri had ever looked a mess, he did on this day. His dark hair hung unkempt in his face, dark circles and puffy eyes were only the beginning. Even the top buttons of his shirt were left open, and the normally impeccably starched tunic and pants he wore were wrinkled and dirty. She sighed as she looked at the assassin. Sometimes it was hard to remember that this man--as clever and talented as he may be--was barely more than a child. The halfling pulled her plans and papers off of one of the few normal sized chairs in the room and gestured for Entreri to sit. She watched as he dragged his feet carelessly and flopped unceremoniously into the chair. "You look like you've just crawled out of the sewer..."  
  
  
Entreri lifted his arm and sniffed... "I could use a bath..."  
  
  
Dwhavel smiled. "I'll draw one for you in a moment. I suppose this means you'll be staying with me for a while?"  
  
  
"I suppose."   
  
  
"So are you going to tell me what's on your mind or shall I beat it out of you?" She raised her hand in a fist , shaking it mockingly at the assassin. The effect was as she had desired--the dour expression on the young man broke long enough to permit a thin smile to etch it's way across his face.   
  
  
"Do you remember the girl I was telling you about...the one with the green eyes?" He fidgeted with the hem of his cloak, his eyes lowered to his menial task...  
  
  
Dwhavel could not help but recall the very vivid description that an equally vivid and lively Artemis had given to her a few months ago. He had sounded so very much like a normal boy then---lovesick and completely enamoured in an adolescent haze. How different the man was who now sat before her. "I think I remember you mentioning something like that..."  
  
  
Artemis ran a hand through his touseled hair, pushing it out of his face and effectively tangling his fingers in it. "Jorie...her name is Jorie." He seemed to chew upon his bottom lip.  
  
  
"Oh, yes...now I remember..." Dwhavel feigned, noting the ease with which she had pulled it off. Yes, Entreri was definitely preoccupied...  
  
  
"She's disappeared. I mean...not in the capacity of magic or any such thing...but she's gone...I've tried to find her...she doesn't have family around here--at least not that I have found--and no one at the...the Inn...knows where she went; or if they do, they're not letting on. She didn't leave me a message or anything, Dwhavel..." Entreri took a deep breath and looked imploringly at the halfling as if her words would make everything allright again.  
  
  
The halfling could not help but pity the young assassin. "We'll talk about this later, Artemis. Come now. The stench of you is making me lightheaded," she managed a half-hearted grin, "Let's get that bath underway..." With that she grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the back room of the little building which served as her washcloset.   
  
  
Entreri stood and came willingly. In Calimport's shady underground there were no friends. There was no such thing as trust, and there was never a moment of relief...but Dwhavel was different. He could hardly remember a time when he had not felt completely at ease around her. Entreri had met Dwhavel when he was taken in by the Basadoni guild and put under the theiving tutelage of the halfling Dondon. Halflings believed that dexterity was only half of good thieving, and that the other, more important half was the information surrounding a good heist. That's where Dwhavel had come in. There was no one in Calimport with a better web of information than the female halfling, and as Entreri had come to learn over the years, there was no one in Calimport he trusted more than she. 


	4. Chapter IV: Jorie

Chapter IV: Jorie  
  
  
  
"Now step back....no....like this..." Artemis took hold of her wrist and guided her movements until she stood in the proper position. "...Don't let the blade sag, Jorie..." He corrected her arm, irritation mounting in his voice.  
  
  
"Artemis, it's too heavy for me." Jorie complained, her arm shaking as it tried to support the long saber.  
  
  
"No it's not. You're just not strong enough for it."  
  
  
Jorie threw the saber to the ground, the blade clanging in protest against the wooden planks of the floor. "You are a nasty prick of a man sometimes, do you know that?" In a flurry of apricot fabric she stormed stormed over to the single window in the room, the hem of her dress bouncing with each step. In an exaggerated gesture she pulled the red curtain slightly to the side, peering out at the street below. There she stood, restless, but silent.  
  
  
The assassin stood unmoving, his eyes upon the discarded saber. "I didn't mean it to sound that way..."  
  
  
"You never do." She retaliated sarcastically, not bothering to turn and face the approaching figure of the assassin.  
  
  
Artemis came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, the soft velvet of her gown sending shivers up his spine as his skin touched it. Taking a deep breath he lay his head on her bare shoulder, burying his face in her soft hair. Salt. Sweat...not hers, nor his. He tightened his embrace. She smelled of the sea---of a hundred sailors dirty hands---their filthy bodies upon hers...  
  
  
"Artemis..." She whispered faintly... "You're hurting me..."  
  
  
"Come away with me."  
  
  
"What?" She spun around to face him, a brow raised in quizzically.  
  
  
He raised a hand to touch her lips. "Shh.....listen. Leave this place. Come with me...I'll talk with Basadoni...you can stay with me. I'll tea----...." He was cut off by her laughter; sweet and mocking.  
  
  
"You would have me leave this prison for another?" She smiled, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Artemis...What am I to you? You do not love me--you've said it yourself. You've told me time and again that I am nothing more to you than a distraction. You come here, you pay for your time like everyone else, and I do for you what I would do for any other client. Why, then, would you have me leave this place? To give up my trade and live in dependance and poverty---the broken mistress of Artemis Entreri?"  
  
  
Artemis shook his head, his chest suddenly heavy, as if it took every ounce of strength within him to draw breath. "Jorie...I...."  
  
  
"You what? You think you are the first pitiful bastard who has made me that offer? I see more men in a day than I can count on a hand, Artemis, and each one pays me more than I can count on two hands. I don't need your charity." With that she pushed past the stunned figure of the young man, the hem of her gown brushing the floor as she made her way to the door and opened it. "Your time is up."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Artemis Entreri leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and submitting to the harsh scrub Dwhavel was imposing upon his face...The warm water of the tub--formerly a horses water trough--relaxed his muscles and did wonders to calm his nerves, so uncharacteristically on end these days.  
  
  
"I swear...all this stubble...When did you start shaving...? Nevermind..." The halfling dunked the washcloth into the warm soapy water and slathered it over Entreri's chest, scrubbing his neck and shoulders. "So Dondon tells me the Basadoni guild is planning to assassinate a few of the higher ranking officials within the New Temple. I'm surprised Derrick hasn't passed the task on to you..." Dwhavel waited knowingly for the assassin's reply.  
  
  
"He tried. I didn't give him the chance."  
  
  
"What do you think he'll do?" The crafty halfling pried.  
  
  
"Higher."  
  
  
"Hire who?" Dwhavel asked, entranced...she had not considered that Derrick would attempt to hire an outside assassin to pull that job...  
  
  
"No...higher...right here...by my shoulder..." Entreri could not help but smile as Dwhavel grumbled beneath her breath and obliged him, the warm washcloth massaging his tense muscles. "He'll wait for me."  
  
  
"You're certain?" She asked, more than a little skeptical of the young man's claim; although she agreed that it would be the wisest choice of action for Derrick.  
  
  
"He hates me, but knows I'm the only one reliable enough to do it."  
  
  
"What about Lucas?"  
  
  
"Lucas could make the kills, but he'd never be able to infiltrate the place. He's got no tact for inconspicuousness. Derrick knows that. He'll delay the plans until I return..." Entreri sank down into the water, submerging his head--and with it his touseled hair. When he came up for air and wiped the water and soap from his eyes he was met by Dwhavel's small hands. The halfling smoothed his hair from his face and hoisted a small pithos of fresh water, dumping it over his head to rinse the soap away.  
  
  
"And will Artemis Entreri return to serve Basadoni?" She asked as she watched the young man stand---water dripping from his well muscled body, the form lithe, agile, and entirely too naked....Dwhavel grudgingly handed him a towel.   
  
  
Artemis dried himself hurriedly before wrapping the soft towel around his waist. "I serve no one...but yes...I'll go back to the guild. Eventually. I just need some time to focus...I can't even begin to search for her with Derrick constantly on my case about my assignments."  
  
  
Dwhavel sighed softly as she dumped Entreri's dirty clothes into the bath tub--which would now serve as a wash tub. "Artemis...have you considered the possibility that she doesn't want to be found?" From the look on the young man's face it was obvious that he had not. Dwhavel was a strong willed woman, and had gotten so far in such a hard world by keeping her wits about her...but she could not deny that her heart broke for the young man. "Artemis..." She paused...weighing the rammifications of what she was about to say. "Do you know why she left?"  
  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
Dwhavel blinked...she had not expected Entreri to be aware of the woman's condition---and she had certainly not expected him to take it so lightly.  
  
  
"She was ill. She was having trouble keeping up with her demands..." Entreri shook his head, droplets of water were sent flying everywhere from his soaked hair.  
  
  
The halfling wrinkled her nose, wiping the droplets from her face. Perhaps he didn't know. It was probably for the better that it stayed that way. "Go put some clothes on lest I mistake you for an exhibitionist..." She mocked disgust...  
  
  
Artemis smirked and dropped his towel before running up the stairs to the living quarters of the building. Dwhavel could only shake her head, grinning ear to ear.   
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
The night was still and calm...the rains gone for the time being. Jorie sat huddled between the remains of a broken wagon and the wall of an old sandstone building. The structure was uninhabited--its roof long caven in...but still it provided enough shelter for the time being....more shelter than Jorie could afford to buy elsewhere in the city. Penniless. Not a coin to her name. She had never been wealthy...had never dreamed of having enough money to buy her own home or open her own shop...but she had always had enough to get by. When one's primary ware was one's own body, the supply never ran out...that is, until the ware was damaged. She sniffled, wiping another stray tear from her cheek. When the head Madame at The Red Harem had found out she had stripped Jorie of everything save for the clothes on her back. She had been cast out into the streets...Every Inn in the city had been warned by the guild that owned The Red Harem that should they shelter her for even one night they would be shut down. That left her here---cold...hungry...afraid...and very alone. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and lying her head upon them. Weeks. It had been like this for weeks....she dined with street urchins and slept upon a pillow of sand. Closing her eyes, the woman took her mind to another time...a time when she had slept in a warm bed beside a warm body. She bit back a sob, wiping at her eyes, one of them swelled and bruised from a recent encounter with a would-be customer. She had turned a few beds since being thrown out of The Red Harem, but it had become more and more difficult. Although the clientel at The Red Harem was far from high calibre, they at least paid up front. It was the reason most prostitutes paid dues to a brothel...to work freelance meant to work for free in a city like Calimport. She drew in a quick breath, her eyes wide as she felt her whole body tense at the sound...boots clicking upon the street....voices low...the echoes filling the alley where she sat.  
  
  
"Naw, it ain't dead..."  
  
  
"Yes 'tis. C'mon...let's go...."  
  
  
Jorie hardly breathed. She waited several moments for the men to leave before emerging from her makeshift shelter. Padding with every ounce of stealth her body could muster, she approached the object in question....the body of a small boy shoved beneath a saddle-blanket lie unmoving on the corner where the alley met the street. Jorie turned to leave...but stopped as she heard a faint, childlike moan. She hurried toward the body and pulled the saddle-blanket away, surpised to see not a child, but a halfling. "Oh, gods..." She reached to touch the halfling's head, buried face down in the sand...she withdrew her hand as she felt the wet sticky substance, shining black in the moonlight upon her fingers.   
  
  
The halfling stirred, trying to push himself up. Jorie placed her arms around the struggling body and lifted, backing away quickly as the halfling got his footing. Swaying woozily, the halfling rubbed his forehead... "What a night..."  
  
  
"Are you allright?" Jorie asked, taking a step toward the diminutive man.  
  
  
"No...but I will be. Just got to get some food in my belly..."  
  
  
Jorie said nothing, her confusion asking all the questions for her.  
  
  
"Just a little tiff with the boss...that's all. Happens from time to time, you know....or perhaps you don't. What's your name?"   
  
  
"Jorie..."  
  
  
The halfling extended his hand, a wide smile on his jovial face. "My name's Regis." 


	5. Chapter V: Times of Trouble

Chapter V: Times of Trouble  
  
  
  
Soft morning sunshine poured through stained glass windows as a myriad of color; blues, reds, yellows and everything inbetween. The half elf fidgeted slightly in the hard wooden pew. There were people everywhere...more people than Theo could recall ever having seen in the Temple at one time. Derrick's fears were with good cause--the Temple's influence was growing by leaps and bounds.   
  
  
"...And submit to the glory of the True God body and soul! We reside in this city wrought with sin, and in doing so we taint ourselves...If you do nothing, YOU are the cause! We must put an end to the moral failings of this wicked city. Heathens, whores, thieves, and half breeds bring ruin upon our sanctity here..."  
  
  
Theo pulled his cowl lower over his face, his delicate features shadowed slightly. He could not help but agree with Derrick on this issue. The sooner this place was decimated---the better.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Dondon made his way nimbly through the crowded market streets, the morning sun on his back. He hurriedly turned the corner and slid to a panting hault before the familiar oaken door. Sparing only enough time to take a deep breath he balled his fist and knocked four times. The familiar little window slid open--Dwhavel's almond eyes appearing on the other side.  
  
  
"You're....early?"  
  
  
"Yes..." he huffed for a moment... "Yes...just let me in.....it's important...."  
  
  
Without another word Dwhavel swung the door open and admitted the halfling, shutting it behind him and securing the locks. "What is is?"  
  
  
"Oh, Dwhavel...I don't know how you get it every time, but you were right on the money..." Dondon collapsed in a heap onto the soft cushion near the cashews...  
  
  
"About what?" Dwhavel asked as she took her own customary seat upon the sawed off stool. She folded her small hands in her lap and awaited Dondon's explanation...and with it, new and valuable information.  
  
  
"The Temple, cousin...Theo reported back this morning after the worship....Gods if they aren't planning a damned inquisition!" He paused to shove a handful of cashews sloppily into his mouth. "The Highpriests are ralleying the followers and converts to condemn basically everyone who's not paying dues to the Temple."  
  
  
Dwhavel's expression was enough to tell Dondon that his cousin was perhaps not so aware of the developments within the Temple as he had thought. The halfling female seemed to sink back, her brow furrowed in contemplation.  
  
  
"Dwhavel? Is everything allright? Do you know something?" Dondon put a handful of cashews back into the bowl...  
  
  
"Dondon...you need to leave..."  
  
  
"What? What are you talking about, cousin? What's wrong?"  
  
  
"...now."  
  
  
Dondon pushed himself out of his seat, warily moving toward the door. "Dwhavel...I don't know what's going on...but I wish you would tell me..."  
  
  
"I will tell you, dear cousin. This city is in for troubled times. Now go..."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
"Wake up..." she whispered quietly as she shook the halfling's arm.  
  
  
"...mmm...eggs...olives..." he snorted as he rolled over...the hard sandy ground upon which he slept indented with his outline. "...hold the cucumber...."  
  
  
"Regis! Wake up!" Jorie persisted a little louder...  
  
  
"I didn't take it!!!!" He shouted as he sat bolt upright, his eyes still half closed.   
  
  
"Quiet! Do you want to get us arrested!?" She whispered harshly as she pulled the groggy halfling to his feet.  
  
  
"och...I remember the days a when a man could sleep on the streets without being prodded to the prisons by those damned praetorians....." The halfling paused to yawn, stretching as he did so.   
  
  
Jorie watched as the halfling went about an elaborate ritual of bends and flexes. She dusted the sand from her filthy, tattered gown. Once it had been a fine velvet gown--the height of fashion--done in a luscious apricot colored fabric.....but now it was barely recognizeable as anything but a dirty old rag. I may as well be wearing a burlap sack, she mused. Absently she let a hand stray to her stomach. It was not visibly large to any onlooker...but she could feel that it was swollen. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.  
  
  
"Let's go get some breakfast..." Regis grinned as he waddled past Jorie toward the bustling street.  
  
  
"I...don't have any money...." She lowered her gaze...her dull, moss colored eyes focusing upon the sandy alley floor...   
  
  
Regis chuckled... "Neither do I...but since when does one need money to eat? Come along...I'm starving...." He turned and started once more toward the market.  
  
  
Jorie watched as the halfling walked away...she bit her lip as her stomach growled. "Wait for me...." She hurried off after him. Perhaps, she thought, her luck was about to change...  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Artemis stood near the window, his hand pressed against the cool glass of the pane as he watched the sundrenched market street bustle with the morning crowds. He turned quickly as he heard Dwhavel's approach---her weight upon the creaking stairs---her footfalls down the hallway---her hand upon the doorknob. "Come in."  
  
  
"I didn't knock..." The halfling pointed out as she opened the door and stepped into the small room. It was Artemis's room...not so much in actuality as in theory. It was a spare room Dwhavel kept for guests...but more often than not her guest had happened to be Artemis Entreri. As always the room looked as if it had not been slept in at all...the bed was perfectly made, the floor and furniture clear of clutter...and Artemis's change of clothing lay folded in a neat pile atop the dresser.   
  
  
"I dreamed last night that I was dead." The assassin said simply, not turning from his station at the window to look at his halfling host.  
  
  
Dwhavel raised a brow as she hoisted herself up to sit upon the end of the bed. "Do you want me to run my fingers through your hair and tell you everything is going to be fine?" She grinned jokingly.  
  
  
Entreri leaned his forehead against the glass, closing his eyes. "It was only a dream."  
  
  
"Yes...it was. You're not dead. I can vouch for it." She cleared her throat. "Artemis...there's something I need to tell you."  
  
  
"I already know."  
  
  
"You.....know?"   
  
  
"I was listening when he came." Pushing away from the window, the assassin padded softly toward the bed, seating himself beside Dwhavel's small form.  
  
  
"I shall remember to censor my meetings when you are here from now on..."  
  
  
"I thought Dondon had been sent here to dig up information on my whereabouts...you cannot fault me for keeping tabs..."  
  
  
Dwhavel folded her arms, feigning anger... "Damned if I can't...whatever the case, I think you should go back to the guild and do what Derrick asks."  
  
  
Entreri watched as a cockroach on the floor across the room made it's way toward them. "I know."  
  
  
* * * * * 


	6. Chapter VI: The Temple

Chapter VI: The Temple  
  
  
  
The merchant watched with vague curiousity as the little boy approached his stand. The child was small--five or six years old, perhaps. A grubby hand reached up onto the counter and clumsily rolled one of the many fragrant honeydew melons onto the ground...  
  
  
"Just what do you think you're doing, boy?" The merchant asked as the boy picked up the melon and cradled it, his small face downcast and shameful.  
  
  
"Papa's gone, an' momma ain't got no ways t'feed us..." The boy squeaked, his voice shaky and coarse...  
  
  
The merchant sighed... "If I gave a melon to every urchin in this city with that line I'd be a poor man..." He cut off as a pretty young woman sauntered up to his stand, her long golden hair swaying with her gait. She lay a hand on his chest, her voice dark and sultry as she spoke..  
  
  
"I've lost my way, good sir..." She ran a finger nervously along her lowcut collar, the soft skin of her breasts peeking out of the garment she wore... "I'm trying to find the spice bazaar..."  
  
  
The merchant smiled, his eyes hungering for a better view. He stepped closer to the woman, putting his arm around her---a hand dangling conveniently over one supple breast---and turned her to face the northern side of the street. "Just up that way, my Lady...you can't miss it.....but are you sure you wouldn't rather have some fine melons??"  
  
  
The woman smiled knowingly. "I would say from the way you look at me that I already do. Thank you for directions, good sir..." She turned and swaggered off down the street to the spice bazaar.  
  
  
The merchant whistled to himself as her watched her walk away, her hips swinging alluringly. Shaking his head, he turned back to continue his lecturing of the small boy....only to find that the urchin---and not one, but TWO honeydew melons were gone...  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
Jorie grinned as she accepted the sweet smelling melon. "I cannot believe we pulled that off!"  
  
  
Regis laughed, taking another bite of his own melon. "What is so unbelievable about it? It's a simple tactic---called creating a diversion. You drew his attention long enough for me to get the goods and scamper away. Oldest trick in the book."  
  
  
Jorie took a bite of her melon, the sticky juice dribbling down her chin. "I haven't eaten something so fresh in almost a month...I'd almost forgotten what food tasted like..."  
  
  
The halfling, having finished his melon, decided to lick his fingers clean. "That was tasty. How's yours? I think it's time for second breakfast..."  
  
  
"Second breakfast?" Jorie asked incredulously.  
  
  
"Yes...comes after first breakfast, and before third..."  
  
  
She could only shake her head, taking another bite of the sweet melon. A few days ago she would have sworn that she would die on these streets...but now, with Regis as her companion, perhaps she would last a little longer. That did not change the fact that she knew she could not continue forever in her current state of affairs. There were options, of course---leave the city and travel North to her family...but she did not have supplies or money to make the long journey. To stay in Calimport meant that her connections would have to be heavily relied upon. The Guild's had blacklisted her...but perhaps she did not need a guild after all. Perhaps all she needed was someone to teach her the ways of street life....and perhaps that someone was Regis.  
  
  
"You coming?...I'm getting a hunger headache...."  
  
  
"Yes...I'm coming..."  
  
  
  
* * * * *   
  
  
  
"Hush...pull your cowl lower...you have to blend in..."  
  
  
"I can hardly see, Theo..." Dondon complained as he clung to Theo's cloak, the half-elf leading the way through the voracious crowd before the Temple.   
  
  
"Then just follow me...and if you value our lives at all, be quiet!" The half-elf whispered. He wove his way through the mass of people toward the doors to the the Temple, Dondon's form in tow. Theo adjusted his cowl once more, ensuring that his pointed ears were properly covered. Taking a shaky breath, he stepped into the Temple, the swarming mass of faithful converts pooling to and fro all around him. He felt nautious, every gut instinct within him telling him to flee the dangerous place--the house of the New God.  
  
  
"Up there...on the dias....what in the name of the gods???" Dondon whispered harshly as he tugged on Theo's cloak.  
  
  
Theo raised his gaze to stare at what Dondon had seen. Upon the central dais of the Temple awaited a sight the half-elf could only equate to some hellish nightmare. Three people hung by their wrists from a gallows, their blood awash down the marble steps. The first was a spindly little man, his fingers and feet had been severed from his body, a set of lockpicks was nailed into his chest. The second figure was a woman, she hung naked, her breasts cut from her body, her abdomen lacerated--an organ hung out the wound, still attached to her insides---a large bloody set of cuts formed an "X" on her face. The third brought bile to Theo's throat. A half-elf hung, seemingly untouched, save for the fact that his torso had been severed at the waist. His lower body lie limp in a puddle of blood below him.   
  
  
"Theo....L-let's go....n-now...." Dondon tugged on Theo's cloak, backing slowly toward the door...  
  
  
Theo muttered something in the elven tongue, his entire form visibly shaking....his breath rasping and uneven....  
  
  
"Gods, Theo....come on....we need to go...." Dondon's voice became terribly desperate, a look of dread crossing his features...  
  
  
The crowd parted as Theo went down, fainted in a heap upon the marble floor, his cowl falling back to reveal the elvish features born of his mixed parentage.   
  
  
Dondon did the only thing he could do.....he ran.  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
Dwhavel set the plate in front of Entreri, ignoring his protesting look. "Be an appreciative guest. Choke it down and pretend it's edible..."  
  
  
"I told you, I'm not hungry." He folded his arms, turning his head so as not to look upon the heavily laden plate. He had learned the hard way that the best way to remain healthy was to avoid eating Dwhavel's cooking at all costs. "Besides...I should head back to the Guildhouse...it's getting late. If I'm going to pull this job, I'd like to get the planning underway."  
  
  
Dhwavel shook her head. "Fine. But don't think you're getting out of my cooking that easily. I'll pack it to go..."  
  
  
Entreri groaned...this was going to be a long night.  
  
  
And he had no idea how true that thought would prove to be. 


	7. Chapter VII: Hiatus Ends

Chapter VII: Hiatus Ends  
  
  
  
  
  
Artemis padded steadily down the dusty street. The moon cast a dim haze over the entire city, seemingly calm. Seemingly. The young assassin knew that around every corner there was a theif cutting a purse from a merchant, or a street urchin gnawing the marrow from a chicken bone...or a whore turning a trick. He shook his head, banishing his thoughts for the moment. Now was not the time. Artemis turned down a side alley, gingerly depositing the parcel Dwhavel had given him into the hands of a blind cripple.   
  
  
"May the one god be with you, good sir..." The man croaked as he greedily plunged his dirty fingers into the tepid food.  
  
  
Artemis laughed outright. "You'll be cursing me in the morning...."  
  
  
The old man gulped the food, barely taking time to chew. He paused a moment and lifted the bandages from his eyes...grinning as he watched the assassin continue down the alley. "Surely I may, Artemis Entreri. Surely I may..."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
Derrick leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped thoughtfully beneath his chin. He sniffed, clearing his throat as he wached the disheveled halfling.  
  
  
Dondon paced the length of the room again, his feet dragging upon the lush carpet.  
  
  
"And you left him?"  
  
  
The halfling stood still as a statue for a moment.  
  
  
Derrick raised a quizzical eyebrow.  
  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
"Good."  
  
  
Dondon's lip trembled. Such was the way of the guilds of Calimport. If you were not fit enough to survive, then you would be left behind. Only the strong flourished in this city. "We have to put a stop to them, Derrick....Even the Old Man would agree..."  
  
  
"Basadoni does agree. But that does not change the fact that we are currently without any means of doing so."  
  
  
The halfling stared hard at Derrick. The man put up a good facade, he had to admit, but through the gruff exterior Dondon could see that the guild's head-man was racked by worry. And rightfully so.  
  
  
"I suppose our time is wearing thin, as is my patience. We cannot wait for Entreri to return. I'm going to have to send Lucas. And you're going with him..."  
  
  
Dondon didn't know what made his stomach turn more---The possibility of the Temple gaining a definite foothold on the city, or the thought of being sent into that temple again with only Lucas to protect him...  
  
  
Both Derrick and Dondon snapped their eyes toward the door as they suddenly heard it slam.  
  
  
"Artemis?! What are you doing here?" Dondon asked incredulously as the young man made his way across the room toward Derrick.  
  
"You insolent maggot...how dare you come crawling back here after deserting this guild the w---...." Derrick gasped as Entreri's dagger thunked into the wall beside his head.  
  
  
"Good shot..." Dondon muttered.  
  
  
Entreri shook his head..."I missed."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Regis stretched languidly upon his bed of sand, the dim moon showering silver light over his chubby face. "What will you do with your life, Jorie?" The halfling asked casually.  
  
  
"I don't know. What kind of a question is that?" She laughed, resting her head on Regis's ample belly.  
  
  
"A serious one..." he rebutted.  
  
  
Jorie lay quietly for a moment, her heart pumping like a bellows in her chest.   
  
  
"Jorie..." Regis began to ask, his voice as serious as she had ever heard it.   
  
  
"I know what you want to ask. You don't have to. I don't know who the father is. I only know who it is not." She lapsed back into silence, closing her eyes, a hand straying up to twirl at a lock of hair.  
  
  
"I'm sorry, Jorie. I ask because there is something I must tell you. These past days have been pleasant and invigorating for me, but...well....I must return to my guild. I have no interest in living out the rest of my days on the streets. You won't be able to come with me.......I'm sorry......" The halfling winced as Jorie sat up. "I...I don't know what you plan to do....but in a month's time or less you will not be able to survive like this. You must seek help----go to your family---or if they will not have you, seek aid from the Temple...just swallow your pride. If not for yourself, then for the child you carry..."  
  
  
"How dare you?" She spun, dull, moss colored eyes glaring weakly at the small man. "How dare you assume that it is pride that keeps me here? You think I would not drop to my knees and beg if I thought there was a sliver of a chance that it would do any good?" She wiped at her face, dirty fingers smearing ruddy stains upon her cheek...  
  
  
"Jorie. I'm sorry. I cannot help you anymore. All that I can do is take you to someone who can." The halfling stood, for a moment eye level with the woman. "Come. I'll take you there..."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Dondon huffed and puffed, his small chest heaving as he pumped his short legs as fast as he could. He groaned as he saw Entreri turn another corner; and couldn't help but wonder if the assassin was trying to lose him. The halfling rounded the corner and ran full force into the waiting form of Artemis Entreri...  
  
"Trouble keeping up?"  
  
  
Dondon fought for his breath, his lungs burning... "Of....course...not...."  
  
  
Artemis grinned wryly. "No matter. It's slow from here on out. Pull your cowl down---and for the last time, if you make so much as a peep, I'll silence you myself."  
  
  
Dondon did not need to ask what Entreri meant by that. There would be no assassination tonight. It would be madness to try it without any prior scoping, even for someone as skilled as Artemis Entreri. Tonight would serve as a taste. Tomorrow would be the five course supper.  
  
  
"Stay close---but stay out of my way. Come on..."  
  
  
The halfling nodded and tailed the assassin as silently as his experience would allow. Dondon recalled a time only a handful of years ago when an awkward street urchin named Artemis Entreri was following behind him...a thief teaching a future assassin the ropes...He almost had to laugh at the absurdity of it.   
  
  
Artemis pushed his dark hair from his face and pulled his cloak around himself as they neared the entrance to the Temple. If ever there was an irony, he mused, it must be this. The structure was tall and crisp; the spires reaching to the heavens like five spindly fingers. The facade of the building was embellished with a myriad of stained glass and ornate carvings. It was beautiful....but as the assassin had learned at a very young age, beauty rarely encompassed the entirety of an entity. One whif of the stagnant air was enough to reinforce the reason he was here. Death was in the air. He could smell it, and he could feel it. "Steady. Keep covered. We don't want another casualty this eve."  
  
  
Dondon drew a shaky breath and pressed closer. It was like deja vu' almost...only this time, his escort packed a set of blades. The halfling smiled inspite of himself.   
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Note: I know this has been about the longest chapter in coming (six months or more, if I'm not mistaken!) and I apologize for such. I've been terribly busy with life in general. Although I cannot promise a new chapter each day, or even each week, I do vow to churn out one regularly----at least, until the story ends! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have enjoyed. -CBS 


	8. Chapter VIII: Purge of the Infidels

Chapter VIII: Purge of the Infidels  
  
The moon shone bright and high in the heavens, its gleam impeded only by the occasional cirrus cloud. Five spindly towers scraped the sky, their tapered points capped in a rim of gold...shining like fire in the moon's glow. Bits of starlight glimmered across the stained glass windows of the structure, casting prismatic light about the area. Artemis Entreri clenched his teeth, his hand tightening about the hilt of his saber---a well lit night was not the ideal setting for an assassin.  
  
"Over there..." whispered Dondon, his chubby hand emerging from beneath the folds of his cloak to gesture in the direction of a pair of bronze doors. "That's the main entryway...on the Eastern facade there is a clergy door, but we--I…was unable to scout it out for guardsmen before…" he cleared his throat softly "before I ran." The halfling pulled his cloak about him, his skin prickled with a mixture of the desert night's chill---and the guilt that assaulted his very soul.  
  
The assassin's gaze followed a group of apparent worshippers as they hurried fervently toward the elaborate entryway. His brows furrowed slightly as he watched them struggle up the stairway with a large object that a few of the men had in tow.  
  
"What is that?" the halfling asked, taking a step forward to peer quizzically at the scene.  
  
"A body." Entreri answered simply.  
  
"Gods, I hope you know what you're doing...."  
  
"I have an idea..." The young man turned to look at Dondon, a grin etching his way ever so slightly across his face.  
  
"Well, what's the pl---............No. Absolutely not...no way, no how, not a chance...."  
  
Artemis turned with the agility of a cat, scooping Dondon up before he could so much as backpeddle. "Quiet now....you're dead...." And with that, the assassin tugged his cowl down over his face and darted across the thoroughfare toward the temple's entrance--the fat bundle tucked under his arm doing its best to appear limp.  
  
* * * * *   
  
The moon's bright light poured into the temple like a cascade through colored glass, casting the faceted tones across the marble floors like faerie fire. Worshippers mulled about in droves, some of them kneeling in prayer, others occupied with hauling loads toward central dais. There a pile grew, and the stench was enough to tell Jorie that not all of the bodies were fresh ones. The woman followed the crowd as they moved like a slow river through the immense temple. Regis had brought her to this place---but he had refused to escort her inside. "I have to hurry back to the guild, Jorie" He had said; rather nervously, she had mused. "You'll be fine. Just find one of the priests and tell him your situation----they'll fix the problem. They're holy men, it's their job!" She was jostled from her thoughts as a burly man pushed past her, the body of a little halfling girl being dragged by a rope behind him. She raised her hand to her face in a futile attempt to shield her disgust. Why were these people bringing the dead into their holy place? As she turned the corner her gaze fell upon a ghastly sight, and suddenly she wasn't so sure she wanted any help from this God.  
  
Mutilated corpses littered the small dais--priests of the One God paced about them, their sandals splattering blood onto the still bodies as they chanted and gestured, in apparent commune with their God. Jorie felt her stomach turn, but she could not turn her eyes from the spectacle. She watched as a priest circled the body of a young man…a half-elf, his delicate face betraying his heritage almost as much as his pointed ears. The priest knelt and withdrew a dagger---appearing more ornamental than functional, and chanted a prayer before touching the tip into the half-elf's chest. The green jewels on the hilt began to glow, and the priest's eyes rolled back into his head in ecstasy to the delight of the masses. After a few moments he withdrew the weapon and gestured for another to approach, this time a worshipper, from the looks of him. The excited man drew his sword from its scabbard and began hacking at the half-elf's body; a body which, as it became obvious, was not dead….  
  
The half-elf screamed in horror and agony as the man bludgeoned him again and again with the dull sword, his voice cracking as his throat began to fill with blood. The crowd seemed to surge toward the dais, some in a fit of passion---others because they could not push past them to get away. Jorie hiked the skirt of her dress up around her and pressed herself against the wall as she moved frantically to flee the scene. Her breaths came in gasps, her heart pumping like a bellows as she tried with all her strength to push through the mob. A large man barreled into her, grinding her shoulder against the hard stone wall. She cried out in pain, her hand going instinctively to her injury.   
  
"I know that one!" cried a younger man dressed in the tattered clothing of a sailor as he pointed at Jorie; his filthy hand shaking with excitement as he repeated himself again. "Stop that one! Stop that whore!"  
  
Jorie felt a dozen hands upon her at once. "Don't touch me!" She shouted, trying futilely to swat them away. "Let me go…..Stop….HELP!" She screamed "HEL----" a large hand clasped over her mouth, and another set of arms encircled her form. She scratched and bit, kicking and clawing in desperation. Her eyes welled with tears as she was dragged toward the dais, her muscles tiring from the struggle. She watched as the crowd----so uncontrollable only moments ago---parted to allow her captors to pass. The young sailor cheered triumphantly as they threw Jorie to the ground, her nose splattering blood everywhere as one of the men stomped on the back of her head, driving her face onto the hard marble floor---no longer white. Jorie cried in terror, the pain forgotten almost immediately as her gaze locked with that of the half-elf; a dimming gaze that died a little more each time he tried to draw breath. She felt two hands upon her back, and then four as she was pressed to the floor and her clothing was ripped from her body. She whimpered, unable to fight back, unable to even look at her murderers. She watched as the half-elf convulsed beside her, a tear falling from his dull eyes as he mustered his last ounce of strength to reach out and touch her cheek. His hand slid down to rest upon the blood soaked marble….still.   
  
* * * * *  
  
The thick smell of blood and sweat hit the pair full force as they entered through the main chamber. A sea of humanity washed in front of them and behind, engulfing them in the flow toward the apse of the Temple. Artemis could feel Dondon shift uncomfortably, though to his credit the chubby halfling did his best to remain silent and limp. The assassin pulled his cowl a little lower, the dark grey fabric making him appear almost as a shadow in the mix of torchlight and stained glass rays.  
  
"This place makes my skin crawl…." He muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Dondon. He already knew the halfling agreed wholeheartedly.  
  
The assassin continued with the tide, sparing naught but an upward glance at the lavish surroundings. Truly this place must be a threat to all of the guilds--to have amassed such a fortune in so little time, and to have control over so very many…He shook his head, banishing his musings. Now was not the time. Hefting his burden up a few inches, the young man turned the corner.  
  
Artemis Entreri stopped dead in his tracks, and as his grip loosened the halfling dropped to the ground like a sack of sand.  
  
Dondon could not stop himself from opening his eyes--but he wished he hadn't. All at once a million thoughts ran through the halfings mind---Close your eyes….don't look…..just close your eyes….  
  
But the image before him would be forever burned into his mind; an image of friendship and betrayal, and the price of self preservation. The tattered remnants of what once was the halfling's very best friend dangled haphazardly from an inner parapet. The corpse hung along with a dozen others, suspended by thin ropes around their necks. Dondon lie as unmoving as a statue for what seemed like an eternity, until the sounds of his own rasping breath startled him from his paralysis. He turned his eyes upward to look at Entreri. There was no expression on the man's face, but the halfling followed his line of sight.   
  
Dondon had never seen Jorie. He had never heard so much as a description of the woman….but he knew with the same certainty that a lamb knows its ewe that this pitiful creature which drew Entreri's gaze was she. The body was hardly recognizable, so disfigured was it by the beatings and lacerations to which it had been subjected. It appeared as though the woman had been disemboweled. The halfling bit back the bile that threatened to evacuate him.  
  
There was suddenly the sound of some shuffling from the parapets above, and as the crowds grinded to a halt, an older man of diminutive stature stepped out onto the balcony. He wore lavish robes, and from the manner in which the worshippers reacted, the halfling could tell that this was the High Priest of the One God. Wryly Dondon thought to himself that if this One God did exist, the High Priest would surely be going to meet him this night.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The man watched with great pleasure as the crowd below him settled and turned their eyes upward. A smile grew across his thin lips, his wrinkled face shifting to accommodate such an expression. He had worked his entire life to bring this cultish faith to such a public; and the swarm of followers below made his pride swell like a sponge. The High Priest, although he had seen more winters than most men ever would, stood as tall as a barbarian; his wide shoulders filling out his priestly robes as if he wore armor beneath. He took a step forward, his thick hand reaching to steady himself behind the parapet. With a sharp movement, he raised his arms in the air--commanding total silence within the instant.  
  
"It is written" He began, his voice strong and commanding "that The One God shall punish the infidels and the criminals, shall smite the half breeds and the whores, and lo, He will welcome the faithful to Paradise!" The High Priest paused for a moment to allow the crowd's fervor to build up. "Look upon these!" he said, waving his arm below at the hanging corpses. His voice rose to a fever pitch, the words booming throughout the Temple's walls "LOOK UPON THE DAMNED, WHICH OUR BLESSED HANDS HAVE DELIVERED TO THE ABYSS!" With that, he withdrew the jeweled dagger and began to cut the ropes from which the corpses swung. They fell to the ground with heavy thumps, their bodies disheveled and limbs askew.   
  
The worshippers below erupted into a fit of passionate prayer, their numbers surging toward the bodies to further defile them.   
  
"My children!" The High Priest said as he outstretched his arms to his followers. "You must submit to the will and power of The One G---AHH"…..he broke off abruptly as a dagger flashed from below and embedded itself into his throat. Blood bubbled from his mouth as the High Priest tumbled forward over the balcony; his body landing with a sickening thud amongst those of the One God's sacrifices. The jeweled dagger clanged against the marble as it landed beside him.  
  
All eyes turned in unison to look upon a single figure, and the room seemed frozen in time-----then the assassin reached to his side and drew his saber. He looked before him at the flabbergasted worshippers--some trembling in fear, others shaking with rage. Raising his arm, the assassin pointed the blade at the crowd, his dark eyes glaring as sharp as the blade.  
  
"Run."  
  
With that he erupted into motion, his lithe form moving with grace unparalleled through the surging crowd; his blade slashing and spinning as if it were an extension of his body.  
  
Dondon hurried to his feet, but was nearly knocked to the floor again as the terrified masses flowed past him in droves toward the doors. "So much for inconspicuous…." He commented as he turned toward the entry chamber---something told him that this was not the place to be.  
  
* * * * *   
  
The assassin swung about and lopped the head off of a fleeing man before lunging forward to skewer another upon his blade. He brought up his foot and kicked the writhing body off, continuing past the crowd--which now gave him wide berth--toward the dais.  
  
A handful of faithful devotees stepped in to block his path, the few remaining priests hovering at their rear. Entreri did not slow is pace, but darted to the right; catching one of the men--a sailor--by the throat with his blade. The man fell to the ground, his blood pooling beneath him.  
  
Two more of the men rushed him, while a third circled around behind the assassin. Entreri ducked and slashed low with his saber, cutting the legs out from under the first man at the knee---his blade lodging itself in the kneecap of the second. The third man, seeing his opportunity, threw himself upon the assassin's back. Artemis fell to his belly, twisting his sword with a loud 'pop' from the second man's knee. He brought his arm up hard, elbowing his assaulter full force in chin. The man responded with a mighty swing of his own. Entreri grunted as the man's elbow came down onto his spine---he took the opening, though, rolling over and delivering a kick to the man's head. He fell back against the wall, his jawbone hanging unnaturally from his skull.  
  
Artemis was up in an instant. He quickly finished the man with the injured knee before stepping over their forms toward the dais.  
  
"The One God will protect us, and punish the infidels!" cried one of the priests as he raised his hands toward the oncoming assassin. "We are not afraid of you!"  
  
"You should be." He hurled his saber like a throwing axe straight into the chest of the priest. The man went down, his eyes still opened wide with shock. One of the priests lost his nerve and fled--the other quickly bent to pick up the green jeweled dagger that lie beside the High Priest's prone form.   
  
With a cry to the One God, the priest rushed the assassin. Artemis braced himself, but lost his footing on the slick marble as the priest crashed into him. The assassin screamed in pain as he felt steel bite into the soft flesh of his side----but the pain only amplified, sending shockwaves pulsating through his entire body. He could feel himself weakening, his muscles starting to give out, his energy starting to fade.  
  
The priest grinned, his teeth clenched as the assassin's life force poured into him. "I'll send you to the Abyss for your crimes, infidel…" He jammed the dagger's blade in to the hilt, eliciting a sharp cry from Entreri.  
  
Artemis looked about frantically for something---anything. He was weakening by the second, and if he did not get this dagger out of his body, he knew he would not survive this conflict. Suddenly he felt something hit his head---and then something else. There stood Dondon; a bag of dates in his hand. The halfling chucked one at the priest.  
  
The priest, startled as he was, turned for a split second to investigate the interloper. That was all that Artemis needed. He gathered the last bit of adrenaline he could muster and let his fist fly. The priest toppled backwards, his hands going instinctively to his shattered nose. He realized only too late that he had released the dagger. Entreri noticed, too.  
  
The assassin gritted his teeth as he yanked the weapon from his side. He struggled to his knees, weak from the pain and the blood loss. The priest threw a punch, but missed his mark, hitting the assassin's shoulder instead. Artemis took his opening and grabbed the man, burying the dagger in his back.  
  
Warm waves of energy charged through his body, almost overwhelming the unsuspecting young man. He closed his eyes, baffled by the sudden mixture of pleasure and pain. The hilt of the dagger began to glow softly as Entreri twisted it into the priest's back. He could feel the gaping wound on his side beginning to numb-----and dug the thirsting blade deeper into the priest. There he held the man until the sensation began to ebb; and then faded altogether. Artemis sat there for a moment.  
  
"Are--Are you injured badly?" Dondon asked, approaching slowly.  
  
He brought his hand to his side---and felt nothing. "No" he muttered; a confused tinge to his voice.  
  
"It's over." Dondon remarked, looking around at the Temple's interior---empty save for the fallen.  
  
"It's not." Entreri said simply as he pulled the dagger from the priest's unmoving body, wiping the blade on his robes. "Not yet." He tucked the new acquisition into his belt as he went to retrieve his saber.  
  
Dondon shuffled through the gore to where Theo's body lie slumped on the dais. "I shouldn't have left him." He bit upon his bottom lip and looked over at the assassin. Artemis Entreri stood over the body of the mutilated woman. "You loved her, didn't you?" The halfling ventured to ask.  
  
Entreri did not answer for a moment, though his fists clenched until his knuckles were white. "I hate her." With a deep breath he repeated himself "I HATE her." He drew back his leg and kicked the corpse over onto its back. Jorie's face, once soft and delicate, was battered almost beyond recognition. "I hate you…" he whispered. He stood there a few moments more; his dark eyes downcast upon her body---and then he turned, outstretching his arm to knock over a large brazier, sending hot coals and fire scattering across the dais. He continued without slowing or looking back; stepping past Dondon toward the entry chamber.  
  
The halfling turned and followed the assassin, though he looked back as he heard one of the tapestries begin to sizzle as a flame licked up its side. He hoped this place would burn into obscurity.  
  
* * * * *  
  
(Note: So sorry that took so long! Life happens, you know. Stay tuned for the epilogue---same bat time, same bat channel…-CBS) 


	9. Epilogue

Close Your Eyes: Epilogue  
  
Dwhavel watched with some measure of interest from her rooftop as the ruddy glow in the distance grew. The Temple was burning---and from the looks of it, to the ground.  
  
The Basadoni guild would certainly be bragging on this one for some time to come.  
  
"Cousin", said a winded voice from behind. Dwhavel did not turn to greet Dondon, though she heard his footfalls as he shuffled over to where she sat. "I'm spent" he sat beside her as he caught his breath, immediately reaching to his pocket and withdrawing a bag of dates; only half full.  
  
"You've had an industrious evening, I see." She smiled slightly, though Dondon noted with no difficulty that it was largely forced. "How did you get into my establishment?" A knowing glint touched her eyes.  
  
Dondon nodded. Dwhavel followed his direction and looked upon a slightly disheveled Artemis Entreri. The young man slowly climbed the steps, dawdling uncharacteristically, it would seem. From her perch upon the small cushion the Halfling woman could see that the assassin's entire midsection was covered in dried blood. Dwhavel feigned disinterest, though to her surprise she found herself fighting the urge to run to him and tend whatever wound had caused the mess. "I have some information for you, Artemis." She said, hoping to lighten the mood to some extent.  
  
"Since when do you give information for free?" He asked blandly, his voice betraying the exhaustion that was beginning to take hold of him.  
  
Dwhavel smiled. "Consider it a gift. One of my contacts at the Pook guild told me that a thief of theirs returned this evening; he'd been thrown out temporarily a few weeks ago. Evidently this thief--Regis is his name—happens to have spent the past few weeks in the company of someone in whom you may be interested..."  
  
Dondon only half listened to what Dwhavel was saying, his hand straying absently to pluck a date from the small bag and deposit it into his mouth as his mind drifted back to recount the evening's events. Dwhavel paused and looked at her cousin knowingly, as if to say 'I have to tell him'...The Halfling nearly choked on his date, but he was too late to stop her.  
  
"It's the girl you were telling me about--Jorie. And Artemis, I think you should go to her....she's with ch---Artemis?" Dwhavel blinked, raising her brows quizzically as the assassin turned abruptly and walked down the stairs. She turned to her cousin, the other Halfling staring at her in disbelief. "What the hell was that about?"  
  
"She's dead, Dwhavel." Dondon replied simply.  
  
"What do you mean 'dead'? My information is solid, Cousin, and I know for a fact that Entreri had no idea of her whereabouts as recently as this evening..."  
  
Dondon turned to face his cousin, brows furrowing slightly as he noticed the concern in her eyes---more for the fact that her prized information circuit might be flawed, he noted, than for any grief over the death of the girl. "She was among the dead we found at the temple. Theo, too." He paused, taking a breath, hoping to steady his voice. "There wasn't much left."  
  
"I see." She raised a small finger to her crimson lips, tracing their outline absently as she digested the information. "Perhaps it is for the better."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"A woman is a liability in his trade. A child even more so. His is in a dangerous line of work, and he cannot afford such distractions..."  
  
She was cut off by Dondon's sardonic snort. "Listen to yourself, Dwhavel...truly spoken like the coldest of the pashas." He rose to his feet, chubby hands tucking themselves into his pockets. "He may be a killer, cousin, but it is his heart with a blade through it this night." The Halfling turned on his heel and padded toward the stairway, calling over his shoulder "He wont talk to me. Maybe you'll have better luck. Good night, Cousin."  
  
Dwhavel lingered a few moments more, peering down from the rooftop to the street to watch as Dondon's form exited the Copper Ante and meandered toward the main thoroughfare. She raised her hands to her face, smoothing her dark tresses from her eyes as she looked upon the smoke billowing up through the orange glow. "And so your innocence dies completely...gone with the ashes into the midnight sky." The Halfling wrapped her arms around herself and started toward the stairs...  
  
* * * *  
  
"Artemis?" Dwhavel asked softly as she poked her head into the doorway, her gaze settling upon the still form of a half naked young man curled in a ball on the bed. His boots and cloak lie discarded in the far corner of the room—as if they had been unceremoniously tossed there. The belt and saber were dropped beside the bed, his blood stained shirt flung across the room hanging from the corner of the dresser. Dwhavel stepped into the room, narrowing her eyes slightly as she noticed the peculiar dagger lying on the bed beside the unmoving form. She felt her heart drop into her stomach, and in an instant she stood beside the bed, her hands slapping at his face frantically. "Artemis! Damn you, look at me!"  
  
Much to the halfling's astonishment, the man opened his eyes, the dark orbs staring at her tear-streaked face. He reached out a hand and brushed the tears from her cheek. "Don't do that."  
  
"By the gods...I thought---I saw that..."  
  
The assassin sat up, his dark hair falling all about his face and over his shoulders. "I am not so weak, Dwhavel." He reached a hand back to fondle the dagger, its green gemstones flickering as his fingers caressed them. "Give me a little more credit than that."  
  
She hurriedly wiped at her face with her silken sleeve, trying desperately to regain her composure. "I'm sorry...you just---just took me by surprise. I came to--"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"But Artemis, I know you're hurting right now, no matter what exterior you decide to display to me."  
  
"I do not wish to speak of this, Dwhavel. Not now, not ever."  
  
"You're a pigheaded, stubborn measure of a man, Entreri. You can do whatever it is you do to bury your feelings for now, but one night many years from now when you lie alone in your bed all of this will come rushing forth like a tidal wave and it will eat you from the inside out, and you won't be able to fight it off with a sword or dagger. You can't just kill everything that hurts you..." She broke off as the assassin lifted the dagger to her throat.  
  
"I said I don't want to talk about this."  
  
Dwhavel grinned wryly, raising a small hand to push Entreri's dagger away. "I know you loved her, Artemis, and I'm sorry you've lost her..."  
  
"You don't have any idea what I've lost." He laid his head back on the pillow, rolling over so as to put his back toward Dwhavel.  
  
"No? I know that you've lost the last piece of you that might have become a good man. I mourn that part of you, Artemis, and I hope you find it again before your own hatred and anger destroys you." She backed away from the bed, turning toward the door.  
  
"Dwhavel."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I hated her. I always hated her."  
  
The Halfling furrowed her brows, looking at the young man—so exposed and unassuming—as he brought his hand up to wipe at his face.  
  
"She made me feel weak, and I hated her for it. I hate her for the way she makes me feel right now." He sniffed, rolling over onto his back, and resting his hands on his bare chest.  
  
"That's what love feels like, Artemis."  
  
"Then I never want to love anyone else as long as I live."  
  
Dwhavel let out a long sigh, walking back over to the bed. She climbed up onto it, sitting her small form next to Entreri, allowing a hand to stroke his head, her small fingers running through his hair. She leaned down, placing a kiss on his forehead. "You may live to regret that." She whispered.  
  
"I'm tired."  
  
"Then close your eyes."  
  
And that's it. Hope you all have enjoyed this fic, it certainly has been a long time in coming. Many thanks to those of you whose reviews and suggestions kept me going. There may eventually be a sequel in the works, although that is dependent upon a number of factors. Once again, I am grateful to RA Salvatore for giving us these great characters and wonderful stories, and to all of the dedicated fanfic readers and writers for filling in all of the gaps. Happy reading! -CBS  
  
Maybe with you I can find some consolation. But I will never have peace. 


End file.
